Casifer Rising
by LokiLove24028
Summary: Once again, Castiel has gotten ahead of himself on attempt to sacrifice for the greater good. Trapped inside Jimmy's vessel with Lucifer taking control, Cas is forced to come along for the ride as Satan himself creates uproar in both Heaven and Hell but Dean and Sam are willing to try anything to save him, but will Cas comply in his current broken state?
1. Satan's Hold

Dean took a deep breath and tiredly rubbed his face, trying to ignore the drowsiness creeping up on him. Books of all shapes and sizes were scattered around on Bunker's Library table, all of them opened and cast aside when information wasn't found helpful- which so far was the case for every book.

Usually Sam did this stuff- all this research. Dean was more into anything that didn't involve burying his time in old dusty books that seemed to always dodge around the solution he needed. This time, it made him feel just a bit more at ease however. He couldn't sleep and resorted to the library which sounded out of character for him, but circumstances were different as of late.

The reason Dean couldn't sleep was because his mind was flooded with the image of Cas- or Lucifer inside Jimmy's vessel in the complicated reality- sneering at him through that cocky and mocking grin that Lucifer seemed to constantly have fixed on his face. On Lucifer's old vessel however, it was fitting. Seeing Cas's vessel acting in such a way was just so... strange. His once stone-faced but also constantly concerned composure was all Dean had ever known when envisioning Castiel. Seeing him compromised by someone so despiteful and deceiving as Lucifer straight scared Dean if he was being honest with himself.

So that is what had him awake at 3:24am. He had to be doing _something_. Cas wouldn't have rested until he had Dean back and safe again if their situations were reversed, so Dean wanted nothing less than to do the same. At this point he knew that Castiel wasn't exactly on board with expelling Lucifer. It was easy to deny at first before Dean had witnessed the full gravity of arrangement, but he couldn't reject the idea for every.

 _Stupid son of a bitch._ Dean thought, although not at all with anger. _Always throwing himself into situations for the "greater good"._ Cas seemed to have a prominent trend of confusing rash decisions with heroic ones. While the angel had nothing but good intentions, that didn't always mean they had good outcomes. Sam and Dean weren't exactly great at that kind of stuff either though. Dean couldn't even count how many terrible decisions he had made that had caused a whole shit-load of trouble for all of them.

"Dude, it's 3 AM." Sam's voice emanated from behind Dean, startling him a bit from his tired gazing at the meaningless words printed across the pages in front of him. Dean turned to see Sam groggily step into the library, his hair a ruffled mess and his eyes still half squinting against the light as if he had just woken up short of a moment ago. Dean reached for his beer and took a swig, turning back to the books.

"Yeah, so why aren't you in bed?"

Dean could hear Sam scoff behind him, eventually making his way around Dean to sit next to him.

"What's all of this?"

"Stuff on the darkness and archangel possession and stuff." Dean said casually, flipping through more pages and blowing away the dust that rose into the air.

"Find anything?"

"Zilch."

Dean let the heavy book cover slam close, pushing himself away from the desk a bit to rub his face tiredly. They didn't even know where to start with the dilemma they were in. How was he supposed to find someone who to teleport to anyone in the world they pleased? He despised feeling this helpless.

"You can't be at full capacity when your tired Dean. Try to get some sleep." Sam said, that concerned tinge to his voice that Dean was all too used to.

"Yeah, I know..." Dean grumbled. He sighed and looked at all of his pointless research splayed across the table. Looking over at the chair on the far side, he remembered Cas sitting there when he had still been under Rowena's curse, bound in a blanket and trembling with lack of self control. This year hadn't been good to Castiel.

"Alright, wake me up after noon... maybe." Dean said, getting out of his chair and playfully shoving at Sam's head, making it loll sideways. Sam rolled his eyes and followed Dean out of the library, both of them silently padding off to bed.

There was a constant low rumbling in his ear, the ground beneath him trembling violently. Castiel didn't know what was going on, but he didn't really care. He was so tired and all he wanted to do was sleep. Why did he want to sleep? He was an angel. Was he an angel right now? It seemed like he was always switching back and forth from losing his grace to restoring it.

Where even was he?

Castiel tried to open his eyes, but they felt incredibly heavy. They fluttered open just enough to see a large room crumbling around him, blurry shapes collapsing on top of each other and all around him. Castiel's eyes slid close again as he was unable to keep them open. He tried to break from his drowsy state, soon learning that it was a less than favorable idea- the more and more aware he was while forcing himself awake, the more apparent piercing pain erupted through his body from an unknown source, feeling as if a milling angel blade were tearing through his body, ripping him apart from the inside out. Even though the dull waves of intense pain made Castiel want to shy away from nothing in particular and scream against the agony, he still had no strength. Instead he felt a low groan escape his lips, his body still heavy and powerless. What was going on?

Nevertheless, he liked it better when he was too out of it to feel the mysterious pain. So Cas let himself drift back into a dream-like state where the sound of tumbling debris faded and his world went dark. That is, until he felt the shaking of the Earth stop. Castiel still could sense a dim ringing in his ears- an aftereffect of the quake he guessed. Everything else was silent though, no signs of life or movement anywhere around him from what he could hear; and Castiel had exceptional hearing.

Best of all, there was no more pain. Even when Cas forced his eyes open and his consciousness half-awake, there was nothing but a faded ache like he got as a human after sleeping on a hard, uneven surface. Not to mention the weakness.

"Castiel!" he heard a voice shout for him. Cas blinked his eyes, trying to make sense of his surroundings. There was nothing but dark shapes fallen all around him, and as he soon realized, on top of him. Castiel tried to look down at his vessel, but it seemed he was completely covered in large chunks of wall and ceiling. He guessed he still had his grace then- if he hadn't he'd most likely be in some excruciating pain.

"Castiel!" the voice called out again. Cas's first thought was Dean, but the more the voice became clearer, the more memories came back. That was Dean. That was Satan himself.

"Lucifer." Castiel groaned, more to himself as if acknowledging it. That's where he was- inside Jimmy's vessel, inside his own consciousness in the replica of Sam and Dean's kitchen that he created with his mind. He remembered sitting at the kitchen table watching TV and then all hell broke loose. He knew it was something to do with Amara.

"What'ya doing just laying around?" he heard his brother snicker to himself, making his way over to Castiel over the rubble.

"Lucifer, what did you do?" Castiel demanded the best he could. It came out a lot less forceful and more of a pained croak, but he ignored it and focused on keeping his eyes open.

"I'm offended you think this was me." he said as he began to move some the debris off of Cas with ease. Castiel didn't know why he was helping him, but he decided to ponder it later.

"YOU'RE the one in charge of the vessel. I swear, if you ruin it-"

"Oh baby, I love when you talk mean to me." Lucifer replied in his usual snarky tone, moving the last barrier off of Cas. Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and tried to push himself up, only to collapse again as dizziness washed over him.

"Castiel, always the drama queen." Lucifer said, gripping Castiel's forearm tightly and yanking him to his feet, continuing to hold him up. "Well snap out of it." Lucifer added more grimly, slapping at Cas's face which admittedly brought him back a bit. Castiel groaned and pulled away from Lucifer, swaying on his feet a bit but finally finding his stance.

"What was that?"

"Amara thinks that by hurting me, God will have some sort of sudden uncharacteristically brought-on motivation. When will people realize that dear old Daddy just isn't coming back?" Lucifer spat angrily, walking around the room and looking at the damage, examining the destroyed room as if it was of extreme interest to him. Castiel hated to admit it, but that's one thing he agreed with Lucifer on.

"Well get out there. Do something." Castiel said, watching Lucifer angrily, clenching his fists but not moving from where he stood. He wasn't completely positive that he wouldn't just collapse again.

"I can't, the vessel is unconscious."

"You're unconscious at the hands of Amara?"

"Technically _we're_ unconscious at the-"

"Lucifer."

"Castiel!" Lucifer yelled back mockingly, rolling his eyes. Castiel huffed angrily.

"I should've listened to Sam and Dean." Cas muttered angrily. Just like that, within a second Lucifer was gripping the collar of Castiel's trench coat. His face was just inches from his own, his eyes drilling into Cas's.

" _You_ wanted this Castiel. Whether it was because you knew it was the best damn shot you had or out of your own pathetic self pity, I don't care. I don't have time for your doubts now, little brother." Lucifer said, shoving Castiel backwards so that he nearly fell on his back before barely catching himself. His expression turned from angry to furious at that point, his muscles tightening as he glared at Lucifer, wanting nothing more but to hit the disgusting sneer off of Lucifer's face.

Cas let the anger fall when remembering why he did this in the first place. He had to do something. He needed to help Sam, Dean... humanity. He always screwed things up. He wanted to do something right. If this didn't turn out then... well then Cas would really have no trust left in himself anymore.

"Oh come on, now. No rebuttal? You've always been static and brooding, but never this much. You're not going to be any more important by feeling bad for yourself." Lucifer taunted him. Cas turned away and took deep breaths to try to keep himself calm. Why was everyone attacking him with the same claims lately. It was always "You're used Castiel", "You're expendable Castiel", "You only mess everything up Castiel".

"Although, maybe I'd be blue too..." Lucifer continued to ramble, aimlessly roaming the caved in room as if looking for a different way out through the fallen rubble. "If I was disowned from the family... well... been there done that." Lucifer said, Cas trying his best to ignore him.

"Stuck here on Earth constantly hiding, a house trained human pet-"

"I'm _not_ a pet."

"You think they actually care about you? You're a mere _convenience._ You're alone Castiel. Our family hates you, you're just a pawn in the Winchester's game, and that _girl_." Lucifer said, finally turning his attention to Castiel, placing himself in front of him to tilt his head through a fake pitying gaze.

"What girl." Castiel asked flatly.

"What's her name?" Lucifer said, looking up as if he was thinking about it. "Oh... Claaaaaaaire."

That was the last straw. Castiel lunged forward and seized his brother by the neck shoving him against the wall, his grip tight. Lucifer only laughed an airy chuckle.

"How do you know about her?" Castiel demanded, enforcing his iron grip on Lucifer.

"I know a lot more than you think." he wheezed, his airways obviously compromised. "She'll never forgive you, Castiel. Never. You _killed_ her father."

Castiel threw his brother aside, watching him crumple in an unnatural way over the jagged rubble.

"You're not worth my energy." Castiel mumbled, walking away from the disgusting, maniac grin Lucifer still wore, coughing and wheezing on the stone. Cas felt his anger fizzling. He knew Lucifer just enjoyed making him furious like it was some fun game, and he was just so tired of it all.

"You and me, we aren't too different, kiddo." Lucifer was already going on again. Cas rolled his eyes and started sifting through the rubble, looking for his TV. That's really all he was interested in doing lately. Besides, he was expendable right? No one really cared what he did so why should he.

Castiel shook his head. Now he was letting everyone get to him. That's what got him into this situation in the first place.

"Outcasts, so-call "screw ups", dispelled from the family and treated like dirt."

Castiel saw a plastic corner sticking out from the broken stone slabs. He bent down and shifted them around, trying to uncover it.

"Come on, Cassie." Lucifer said, suddenly behind him with an arm draped over his shoulders. " _I_ need you to get us out of this mess. Once i figure out how to wake this damn thing up, it's you and me. Full force-"

"You've been nothing but all talk, Lucifer." Castiel answered dryly.

Castiel pulled out his TV from the rubble, clouds of dust swirling in the air. He carried it to the most stable and flat piece of stone he could fine, placing the tattered television gently on top and sighing in disappointment at the shattered screen and dented plastic casing. Cas had been in this vessel for a while though. He knew the tricks and in/outs. He closed his eyes and opened them again, enjoying the view of a perfectly restored TV.

Ignoring the annoyed groan from Lucifer from behind him, Castiel flipped on the TV, sighing at the disappointing static and reaching for the antennas, trying to adjust them the best he could.

"First trip out of the cage in years and then this... Should've just sent Michael... Where's your freaking God now..." Lucifer continued to mutter to himself in the background, kicking around rubble. Castiel just sighed and tried to block out his current situation. It was fine. Everything was fine.


	2. The Prophet's Return

Dean grunted upon the impact of his back hitting the bookshelf. Books rained down around him around him, flying across the floor in a hodgepodge of leather covers and dusty pages. Pain flared up in his spine as he slid to the floor with a grimace.

Him and Sammy's latest hunt had lead them to an old library in southern Pennsylvania where a shapeshifter was making its rounds. It had taken them by surprise upon arriving at the old dusty place, taking that advantage to get Sam pretty good in the head. Dean's brother was lethargically trying to push himself off the floor now, only a few feet from where Dean was attempting to take on the shifter. So far it wasn't going all too well.

"Dean..." Sam mumbled from where he was still collapsed, putting a tentative hand on the back of his head.

"I'm fine." grumbled Dean, looking up to ready himself for another blow from the monster. It wasn't there however. Dean looked from left to right, scanning the room as best he could through the bookshelves but he saw no sign of the creature. "Shit..." he mumbled, getting up and shuffling through the fallen books, trying to listen for any clue of the existence of the sneaky bastard. He wouldn't let it get the jump on him again.

"Come on!" Dean yelled out into the air gruffly. "I don't have all day!"

That's actually exactly what the Winchesters had though. With no leads on Amara and no word from Rowena or Crowley, what else were they to do?

"Deaaaaaaan." he suddenly heard a woman's voice ring out. It was a deep, dark, and luring sound, like a beautiful shadow slipping across a landscape silently. Dean knew that voice. He knew it wasn't genuine, but his heart still faltered for a moment. He heard someone rush by behind him a few bookshelves over, snapping his attention in the opposite direction.

"Don't you want me Dean?" the voice asked, growing closer and clearer. Dean shuddered where he stood, gripping his knife firmly in his hand. He kept hearing noises all around him, turning his focus back and forth only long enough to catch a glimpse of the shifter running by.

Finally, it appeared. Well, more like _she_ appeared. What appeared to be Amara stepped out from behind the bookshelf, flowing black gown of silk and all. Her eyes locked with Dean's and he froze, hearing a moan of protest from Sam behind him but ignoring it for now.

"Oh yes, Dean. Word's getting around about your little fling with the darkness." The shapeshifter sneered, walking closer to Dean in a dauntingly slow glide. Dean didn't answer- he just lunged forward in attempt to plunge the knife into the shifter's heart but it dodged last second, sending Dean headfirst into another bookshelf. This time his reaction time was quicker as he shot to his feet again, frustration and anger fueling his will to fight.

"Or maybeeee..." the shifter softly spoke, moving behind another bookshelf and coming out the other end but this time, in a different shape. Dean felt his fists unclench as the form of Castiel stepped out, tilting his head at Dean and flashing him those typical confused and innocent angel eyes. Dean gritted his teeth. He'd tear this thing apart... just... not when it was in this form.

"How the hell do you know about Castiel?" Dean demanded, raising his knife up to gleam in the dusty rays of afternoon sunlight beaming through the dirty windows.

"Everyone knows, Dean Winchester. He's the most wanted angel and now he's riding shotgun with Lucifer too? Your precious angel sure does know how to make a name for himself." the monster said in Cas's deep, gruff voice. It advanced towards Dean once again, rolling its shoulders back and cracking its neck.

"Don't know what's so great about this outfit he wears all the time though..."

Dean lunged forward, holding the knife to "Cas's" throat, pinning him against the bookshelf. The fake-Castiel just grinned at him but then dropped into a hurt looking expression.

"You'd really hurt me Dean?"

"Hell yeah, you aren't Cas. I don't see a problem."

The creature grabbed Dean's wrist forcefully and suddenly, making him jump. Instead of trying to push Dean away though, the shifter held the knife closer to its neck enough for blood to start to coat the sharp edge of the weapon. Dean felt himself shaking. Maybe he couldn't do it. Holding the knife to the Castiel imposter still hit a little close to home remembering when Dean had been a demon.

"Then do it." the monster said. "Finish the job that you couldn't earlier when you nearly kabobbed your dear old-"

The shifter couldn't finish though. Instead he let out a scream of agony, dropping to his knees with wide eyes. Dean stepped back completely confused before seeing a knife protruding from "Castiel's" abdomen. The shifter fell forward into a pool of books, blood seeping out from underneath the exact copy of Cas's usual dress shirt. Dean's face hardened as he turned away from the scene that it appeared Sam had created. His brother must've gathered enough strength to crawl over and stab the creature- something Dean almost seemed incapable of doing.

"Thanks." Dean muttered quietly as Sam pushed himself up to stand next to his older brother. Dean felt Sammy's hand on his shoulder, relaxing him just a bit.

"You okay? Your head okay?" Dean asked, turning to look at Sam who looked to be doing a lot better.

"Yeah, it still hurts like hell but I'll put some ice on it at home." Sam said, rubbing the back of his head gently.

"Then let's get out of here." Dean agreed grimly, stepping over the books to leave the image of his dead friend behind.

It didn't take too long to get home and thank God for that- Dean was exhausted. Sam slept in the car on the way home, still holding the gauze to his head that Dean had given him from the back. His brother's low and steady breathing had been the only sound in the car other than the hum of the engine which gave Dean a long time to think about everything.

Out of all the things Dean had tried to mentally prepare himself for the near future and whatever the whole darkness problem brought, what him and Sam came home too was not one of them.

As they walked through the threshold of the bunker, agreeing on a movie to watch for the night just to relax.

"Dude, Die Hard's a classic."

"Alright, alright. Just don't recite all the lines like you always do. It gets old." Sam complained, dropping his suitcase in the living room. Dean rolled his eyes and shoved Sam playfully, causing his giant mountain of a brother to smile tiredly and stumble.

Dean sighed and extended his arms out in front of him, trying to stretch out the pain that still was flaring up dully at the base of his spine.

"I'll make the popcorn since you're all injured." Dean said, flipping on the lights to the dining area, his heart skipping a bit when he did. There was someone sitting at the giant table in the middle of the room, staring back at him. Dean's first reaction was panic and readiness to fight, but he relaxed just a bit when he saw exactly who it was. The corner of his lips turned up into a smile of disbelief.

"Son of a bitch..." Dean whispered under his breath, looking at the smiling face of Chuck at his very own dining table. Sam must've heard his quiet comment, his brother letting out a surprised laugh of amazement behind him.

"Chuck?"

"It's me." Chuck said awkwardly, holding out his arms as if to present himself. Dean walked forwardly slowly and unsurely.

"But... we were sure you were dead."

Chuck nodded as if he completely understood this.

"Yeah, there was Kevin... another prophet." Sam added.

"Yeah, it's a long story and I've been busy but I didn't come for that." Chuck said, his nostalgic smile fading into a more serious expression. "You need to get Lucifer out of the picture. Get him out of Cas."

Dean threw up his hands.

"Yeah, we've been trying. They were both taken by-"

"The darkness, I know." Chuck finished. Dean raised his eyebrows. He had nearly forgotten about Chuck's enhanced ability to look into the future. At times to even a creepy extent, especially when him and Sam would end up with tons of books all about their life.

"Well..." Sam said after a brief period of silence. "Do you know how?"

"I know where. You guys need to do the rest."

"Chuck..." Dean cut in, his eyes narrowing a bit. "I'm thrilled to have you back and all, but this whole task showing up suddenly at our doorstep seems a little..."

"Out of the blue?" Sam suggested.

"Yeah, and not to mention, how'd you even get in here?"

Chuck sighed and looked between Sam and Dean.

"We really don't have time for answers. Castiel may be dead by then."

Dean felt his heart drop- _dead?_ Why dead?

"What?" Sam asked, a clear tone of abrupt surprise in his voice.

"Amara is trying to torture Lucifer to see if it will draw God out." Chuck said in rushed words. "And while Lucifer can handle it as a full fledged archangel, Castiel's grace isn't quite at full capacity from what I understand. It's only a matter of time."

"Shit..." Dean whispered under his breath. "Alright, in the car then. Chuck- I hope you know how to get to wherever it is we're going." Dean said, already striding towards the door. Sam kicked into action mode as well, grabbing a new gauze from the cupboard before following Dean out, Chuck behind them. This whole thing was so strange- nothing that was too out of the ordinary for their lives in general, though. People tended to pop in and out of the picture, both alive and previously dead. If Chuck was ever dead that is.

"Dean, I hate to seem like the glass half-empty guy, but we don't even have the slightest of ideas of how we are getting Cas out of there. I mean... it's the darkness." Sam said as the three guys got in the car, Chuck in the back.

"Yeah, yeah. I know." Dean said, turning the key in the ignition and letting the car roar to life.

"Here." he said, tossing his phone to Sam. "Call Crowley."

"Crowley?" Sam asked, confused.

"You got a better idea? At least we can trust him to help us for his own selfish reasons."

Sam sighed and flipped through Dean's contacts until he found Crowley's number and held the phone to his ear. Dean backed up down the driveway and onto the abandoned gravel street, stepping on the gas and listening to the engine complain.

"How far are we going, Chuck?"

"Don't worry, we're already almost there."

Cas screamed and fell to his knees, his forehead resting against the trembling wall in front of him. His hands clenched at the hem of his trench coat in attempt to somehow ease the pain that was burying him in waves of agony. Amara was at it again, this time enraged that God hadn't showed the first time and now taking it out on Lucifer and Cas. At this point, Castiel let himself admit that there probably was no fight between Lucifer and Amara. There was only this- this crippling pain until he died alone in the consequences of his own stupid decisions.

The pain let up again- but Cas was hardly relieved. She would only start again in a few moments.

"Cas." he heard a breathy voice appear from behind him. Cas was still so shaken from the torturing pain that he didn't even bother to look around. He kept leaning against the wall curled into himself, just waiting in terror for the next blow to come. He needn't move anyway though. Lucifer approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder and turning Castiel to face him.

"Hey listen, I'm not having any luck with this." Lucifer said, taking fast and labored breaths. Cas guessed this whole predicament wasn't all too enjoyable for him either, but at least he had a full grace to defend against it.

"You got us into this." mumbled Castiel weekly. He just wanted to... to give up, honestly. As much as he didn't want to admit it.

"Yeah... why don't you get out there and see what you can do." Lucifer said, reaching to put two fingers on Cas's forehead, but Castiel shied away.

"What, are you mad? This is your doing, Lucifer. And at this point you can take much more than I can."

"Yeah, I'm not exactly leaving you with a choice." Lucifer said, shrugging as if to unapologetically saying "sorry". Lucifer reached forward and touched Cas just enough to throw Cas back into reality- back in control of Jimmy's vessel and just in time to come face to face with Amara.

"Amara." Cas muttered hatefully. It came out quiet and weak but he was pretty sure his tone got his point across.

"Castiel." she replied plainly. "I guess Lucifer cowered and is letting you do all his dirty work then."

Cas glared at her and tried to move within his vessel for the first time in what felt like forever. He felt his hands restrained above his head however, although not by rope or any other material (besides, that would never hold an angel), but by nothing at all. Castiel struggled the best he could against the invisible force, but it was much too strong and he was much too weak at the moment.

"Lucifer I understand, but I don't know what's so special to God about _you_." She said, narrowing her eyes at him through thick eyelashes. Castiel wavered on his feet, watching objects blur around him in whatever abandoned warehouse they appeared to be in. He was pressed up against an old boxcar from a train, barely able to stand with his arms bound tightly. Things weren't looking all too great.

"Or to Dean." she added, taking a step closer to him. Castiel felt an aura of unease run over him. It was almost the same feeling that he got when he was around a demon- like every single molecule of his existence was rubbed the wrong way from an opposite force that knew an angel was near except this time, to a much greater magnitude.

"Are you going to tell me I'm just his pet, as well?" Cas croaked out, taking deep breaths in attempt to soothe the dull pain still residing in him.

"No." she said, suddenly shooting her hand forward and moving under his shirt, grazing her long nails against the skin of his hip. Castiel tried to shy away, but Amara just smile and continued to tauntingly touch him.

"I don't need to. I see the doubt in your eyes already." she said, digging her nails into his flesh. Cas groaned and let his head fall, his muscles tightening against the pain. He felt a warm trickle of blood slide down his hip and catch at the hem of his pants.

 _Well that's not good._ Cas thought, realizing he could actually feel the warmth of his blood. He shouldn't be able to feel the temperature change. Would this be the last straw before his grace diminished completely?

"Don't worry, Castiel." Amara whispered, stepping even closer to put move her mouth next to ear. "You won't see him again." Amara dug her nails in deeper as Castiel screamed, but it was soon drowned out by the crash of the wall collapsing, a giant black mass flying through. Cas's gaze lethargically shifted to the commotion of the wall being smashed in, noting that the object was Dean's black Impala. Cas wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed- his selfish side told him to be relieved. He wanted Sam and Dean to save him- he wanted to go home with them and bury himself under the covers of Sam's bed so that he could watch more of the Netflix while brushing off the irritating pools of the "popped corn" growing all around him while Dean made a game of throwing the strange snack to mess with him.

The other side of Cas told him that he was a coward for wanting this. It told him he was being unreasonable and that he deserved this- not the imaginary family scenario that everyone told him he created in his head to seem less lonely. Was he lonely? Or alone? Or useless or a screw up or-

"Amara!" Dean's voice yelled as he stepped out of his "Baby" as Dean liked to call it. Cas never did understand why he called this inanimate automobile an infant. At that moment as Cas slumped against the old boxcar at the mercy of the Darkness herself, he allowed himself to be glad to hear that voice. Whether this supposed rescue mission would end well or not was another story...


End file.
